Enzo's at 7?
by SmoothFluffle
Summary: Joyce gets ready for her date AS SHE SHOULD'VE DONE INSTEAD OF MOVING AWAY. A kind-of fix it story for those of us that still won't recover from Chapter 8. #Jopper


**A/N: Hi, this is not a story but a FREAKING PETITION TO SUE THE FUCK OUT OF THE DUFFER'S ASSES! My heart is still shredded, my tears haven't been dried, but here I am because I needed some kind of comfort after the explosion that was that last chapter. This is literally not my best work but I whipped this out real quick while my grief was still fresh. **

**Jopper deserved better and I am putting that out into the world.**

**#JusticeForJopper **

**Anyway, enjoy this and let me know what you thought about this story, of chapter 8 and about Season 3 in general. I'll try to go back to writing as soon as I can. A new season always gives me a pump of inspiration. **

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Smoothing her hands down the front of her skirt, Joyce stared hard at her reflection in the mirror.

Her stomach was in a knot, her fingers felt cold and stiff, and she felt the sudden need to slap herself across the face.

"What's wrong with you?" She muttered to herself, shaking her head as she took another look.

She was wearing a dress. There, she said it. She was wearing a dress, and although it had been years since she had worn this particular garment, she wouldn't say it felt bad. The fabric wasn't anything fancy, just your typical cotton with a bit of polyester, dark red stretching across her hips and shrinking up her chest into two thick straps that went over her shoulders. It was a bit revealing, lingering remains of times she dressed for Lonnie Byers, but because it had been years, she didn't have anything else.

It would do, though, especially with the—surprisingly—good rack she still had.

She was smearing some burgundy lipstick across her lips when she heard the sound of wheels crushing the earth.

Quickly, she took a peak through her window, and confirmed her suspicions. 7 on the dot.

"Mom?" Jonathan's voice called from the living room.

"Can you open the door? I'll be out in a minute!" She called back, capping the tube and placing it into her purse. "Keys, wallet, coat..." her eyes swept through the room, leather jacket hanging from her arm, and she gasped as she realized she was barefoot. "Shoes, Joyce," she rolled her eyes. "Shoes."

A few minutes later, after taking a final look in the mirror while she heard them come in, she paused to take a deep breath before she walked out of the hallway.

Jonathan's back was to her, and Will was pulling something out from under the TV, so it made sense that the first one to catch her eyes was Eleven.

Hazel eyes went wide with wonder as she took her in. "Wow..." El exclaimed in admiration, taking a couple steps closer.

A sound from the kitchen made her turn around, and she found the blue eyes of the Chief of Police over the rim of a water cup.

"Hi." Joyce smiled nervously, shifting on her heels.

Hopper's eyebrows went up and down, as if he was trying to control the movement on his face, to no avail. She could read the emotions running across it like a book.

His thick mustache was damp, little drops of water clinging to the edges as he put his water cup down.

"Hey," Hopper said gruffly. "You..."

The print of his shirt was simpler than the one she had seen him in a few days prior. Little yellow zigzag lines printed down the baby blue fabric that disappeared into the waistband of a pair of navy blue slacks. A brown jacket completed the look, matching the belt and loafers on his feet.

He looked good. Very good. Sigh-inducing good.

"I what?" She tried to keep her grin from bursting out, but felt the treacherous movement on her lips anyway.

She could hear Eleven giggling behind her as she walked into the kitchen, placing her purse on the table.

"You, uh, look amazing." Hopper told her, holding her gaze.

"Thank you." She felt her face warm up a little, along with her chest. "You don't disappoint either."

Clearing his throat a little, she could see Hop getting his bearings back as a little smirk formed underneath the facial hair. "Do I ever?"

She couldn't help but laugh at that, and that was enough to break the layer of nerves that had been brewing around them.

"We should get going," Hopper said as he checked his watch. "Don't want to lose the reservation."

She turned around, gathering the jacket in her hands to put it on as she met Jonathan's eye. "All right, kiddos. You know the drill."

"Actually, we don't." Will said, a small smile lighting up his face as she approached him. "You never go out. You look beautiful, by the way."

"Thanks for exposing my nonexistent social life, William." She chuckled into his hair as she kissed his head. He had to buck down a little so she could reach him, and not for the first time her heart squeezed in her chest as she noticed how much her little boy had grown.

"We won't take too long. We'll be back around nine. Ten at most. You got the restaurant's number for any emergencies," she turned to Jonathan. "You're in charge of these two. No more bedtime but please no scary movies, okay?"

"El, you know my radio channel," Hopper said from behind her, nodding at his daughter. "Reach me if anything comes up."

"Okay." The girl nodded, smiling up at Joyce as she kissed her head too.

"Mom, we'll be fine," Jonathan chuckled as she hugged him. "Just go and have fun, okay? We'll watch something funny and play some board games. Nothing out of this world."

"_Please_, nothing out of this world." Joyce snorted sardonically, stepping back from them as Hopper placed a hand on her back.

"Have fun!" El smiled enthusiastically.

"Enjoy dinner." Will said as they stepped out.

"We will."

"Love you!" She managed to say as the door closed behind them.

They stood on the porch for a minute, contemplating the sky and weather, before they walked towards the Blazer.

"So." Hopper started, a smile playing on his lips as he unlocked the truck.

"So." Joyce played along, the warm feeling on her chest reappearing as they got inside the vehicle, closing the doors. "7 on the dot. That's impressive."

"I got my moments." Hopper chuckled, placing a hand on the wheel but made no move to turn it on. "Never fails to get into a lady's good graces."

"Got a lot of experience with the ladies?" She joked, crossing her ankles as she wiggled further into the comfortable seat.

"I do. Not all good ones, I got to confess."

An amused laugh bubbled out of her, and as she looked to her left, she saw he shared the amusement. "Not a good record, Chief?"

"Not one I'm proud to present. At least on first dates, no."

"Should I run for the hills now, then?"

"I think you should wait for the breadsticks. For the wine too. Maybe. If you're into that."

"Alcohol is always well received in my books, you know that. I should warn you that it won't make my morals shake though." She chuckled as he started the engine.

"Morals?" Hopper chortled.

"Yeah. Go ahead and laugh! I'm just stating the facts. I'm not a first-date-kisser kind of girl."

He went quiet for a minute, and she pinned it on concentration as he backed up from her driveway, but then he looked at her with an intensity that stole her breath away, and she knew that whatever response he had for her, it would come from his heart.

"That's all right," he whispered quietly. Softly. Tenderly. Eyes sparkling in the night. "I don't mind waiting. I want something deeper than a kiss. Been waiting for something like that for a while now."

She didn't want to ruin the night with heaviness and dread, but she couldn't help the pang in her stomach and the familiar sting of tears behind her eyes. They came close to losing him, not even five days prior. It was part of the reason she was so nervous for this date.

Seeing him ready for… doom, or whatever it was that could've happened to him next to that machine... just the thought of it made her palms clammy. She could've really lost him forever, without the knowledge of what they could be if she gave him a chance. Gave _them _a chance. And if Dr. Owens and his guys hadn't bursted into the room and pulled him out of there, she would be packing things up.

But here they were. He was alive, bruises coating his face and body, but that shine in his eyes remained the same. Even more bright with his confession.

"And you think this is it?"

A smile twisted his lips. A movement that had her wishing she _was_ a first-date-kisser. "I think I've known all along." He reached out and took her hand. Her fingertips graced his palm gently, his meaty digits wrapping around her bony ones, and once again, her warmth heated her up from the inside out as he squeezed.

"Me too."


End file.
